


Seven Nights

by Heavens_Door



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-03 05:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6597790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavens_Door/pseuds/Heavens_Door
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven nights Jade Harley wakes up from her slumber, crying. Seven times a friend comes to comfort her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dirk

Your name is Jade Harley, and everything is going great for you.

Well, that's not right. You're still alive. Mostly. Months have passed since Sburb was won, since they entered the new universe birthed by Billious Slick. Everyone's settled down in their own corner of the reborn Earth, living their lives free of the fear that the next second may be their last. You are surrounded by friends and family, by people whom you love and care for more than is reasonable. No heartless killers with your dear friend's face cutting your friends apart, no ancient tyrants enslaving their minds, no monstrosities out to slay them all, mind body and soul. Things couldn't be better.

Yes, better. Sure you haven't had a decent night's sleep in the last few weeks, but who needs sleep? There was so much of this new world to see, so many moments to share with those around you. Sleep is a waste of time, and you've spent the better part of life asleep. Why waste time unconscious, without another soul to talk to or spend your day with? Besides, it's pretty ignore that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you try to move with an effort, or how at times you're seeing stars after a few minutes of brisk running. It's fine, you can function pretty well even without the Green Sun's fire flowing in your veins, or the recommended eight hours of sleep. You've spent days at a time slumbering your life away, you're pretty sure you deserve to do the polar opposite of that.

Which is why right now you're in your bed, curled up beneath your sheets with your eyes red and puffy. You're successfully eluding sleep, and the chocking sobs you're holding back are helping a lot with that. Good. More time to spend with your friends after all. Except that everyone else is probably asleep, but you can wait. You're pretty used to waiting, but there's no need to be impatient and wake up your friends. You don't mind, really. Besides, they wouldn't like it if you greeted them the way you look right now. They'd just worry. And hasn't everyone had enough of that already? You crawl out of your bed and shamble into your bathroom, tripping on a few misplaced squiddles left lying on the floor. Seems like Space powers don't cover being able to see things in the dark. A splash of water, a towel in your hand and you're all better.

Not everyone seems to agree on that, though. A figure enters your room (you never leave the door open, there never seemed much of a point back when you lived on the Island) and approaches you, placing a hand on your shoulder. He tries for a reassuring smile, but it's hard to tell in the dark. You hope it's a smile, at least. It takes you a few seconds to readjust in the gloom, but soon enough you see his features: blonde hair, lithe build and pointed sunglasses worn in the dark. You shouldn't be disappointed, and you aren't. Of course not. You are a little surprised though. Dirk Strider was not someone you knew well, and you did not think he would come to your room at this time of night. 

"Hey."

"Hello. It's a little late, isn't it?" 

"Could tell you the same thing."

"Hehe, yeah." You giggle, but your heart's not into it. "Back on the island I didn't really have a bedtime."

"Is that it, or is it something else?" Dirk's expression shifts to something more neutral. "Nightmares?"

"No." You answer almost immediately, a little louder than you intended. "No, it's nothing."

He gives you a stronger look, punctuated by a raised eyebrow. "Well. Didn't take you for the type to cry over nothing."

Oh. So heard that, then? Your room is placed a hallway down most of the others'. It was the one closest to the little garden you've set up for yourself. Dirk must've had good hearing, to listen to non-existent crying coming from a room this far from where the others were staying. That wasn't good. You don't want anyone to worry about you, and over something that wasn't even a thing, no less. Being chipper and optimistic is something you're known for, at least, and it wouldn't do for the others to think otherwise, for the others to [i]worry[/i]. You try for the biggest smile you can muster in the gloom and tell him it's fine.

"That's silly! Why would I cry over nothing?"

"Ah." You don't like the sound of that 'ah'. "So it is something."

Well, that is just rude of Dirk! And lame! You did not expect a Strider to be lame, insisting that some imaginary pain must be gripping you. You turn away from him, placing a hand against the wall so you could find your way back to bed. Halfway through almost stepping on the same squiddle for earlier, you hear a sigh from Dirk. Evidently he has better night vision from you, because he manages to sidestep the mess on your floor and reach the end of your bed before you. It doesn't take good eyesight to see that he's got his arms crossed, disappointed.

"Nah, not buying it. Take it from an expert, there's something bothering you."

"It. Is. Nothing!" You snarl. A sickly green emerald glow illuminates your room for a second, making the previously confident Dirk shuffle slightly to the right. "Please leave. I'm alright. Really, I am. I think it might just be allergies. I was on that island for a long time so I'm not as exposed to allergens as everyone else. I'll be fine tomorrow."

Looks like that worked. Dirk is nowhere to be seen. As you crawl back under your sheets, you reflect on how rude it was of him to bug her like that, and in the middle of the night, no less. Still, maybe the light show was uncalled for. He was only concerned, after all, and you couldn't blame him. Sburb did a number on everyone after all, and some scars weren't really apparent. But you've always been able to manage, and really compared to what everyone else went through the game wasn't so bad. Despite that you really want to go and apologize to him tomorrow. The last thing you would want right now is for you to be in conflict with your dear friends.

Scratch that. All of your alarm clocks going off at the same time is the last thing you want right now. In retrospect, having five obnoxiously loud clocks was not a smart idea. Oh sure, your Grandpa taught you to be be prepared and have contingencies, but perhaps clocks weren't that high in the list of things that needed redundancies. Irritated, you teleport each alarm clock into your hands and give yourself the satisfaction of hitting them hard until they stop making your night awful. Your powers over the fabric of Space ensure that with each hit the clocks are completely pulverized, reduced to their component atoms and scattered as far away from you as you can reasonably teleport. When you are about to smash the fifth one silent however you hear an all too human scream, if you can call a sound with such little volume that. You blink, and look down on the clock.

Dirk is standing on top of it, waving his arms around. He's a tenth of his normal size and seemingly as unflappable as ever. You think. Again, dark, small, not really as cognizant of your surroundings as you'd like. Embarrassed, you wave your hand over him and return him to normal size. Green light glows around his form, and in a flash the five inch blonde is back to his old self, lying on your legs. He gives you a thumbs-up, and sits with his back against your bedpost, right next to you. You don't really have the nerve to protest, or look him in the eye for the matter. (Besides it was hard to do that in the first place with those sunglasses on.) 

"Willing to talk about it now, Jade?"

You fold your knees up and hold your arms around them, placing your head against your legs. 

"Shit, I know I'm the last fucking person to tell you this, but maybe you shouldn't clam up and shut everyone out of your problems." He snorts. "Heh. Well what do you know. Guess I still have some mad irony game."

"I'm sorry about shrinking you and almost hitting you with my fist."

"S'cool, Jade, s'cool. Least you didn't go for decapitation." He snorts again. You never did understand why that joke's so funny to everyone.

"But... don't worry. I'll be alright."

"We care about you, all of us."

"I know."

"You sure you don't want to talk about it?"

You pause for only a few seconds. It felt like an eternity. "No."

"Well, as long as you admit there's something." He folds his arms behind his head and whistles. "No wonder Condi wanted you on her team. You're a scary woman when you're mad. I guess you weren't Jake's grandma for nothing."

This is new. You don't recall your version from their universe ever being mentioned that much. Even Jake didn't have a lot to say, if only because you didn't want to pry. "What was I, well, I mean she like?"

"She was a real badass, from what little we knew. Fought the Condesce for decades, longer than anyone else, and she did it in secret and by herself." Dirk pauses. "Well, not really alone. There were always rumors that Christopher Lee and Betty White had a mysterious backer who helped with the war even before it started."

You smile. The island was not a repository of pop culture, but from how Dirk spoke of those two he admired them a lot. "What happened to me... well, to her, at the end?"

"She died. The Condesce came for her herself." Dirk looks away, sighing. "We don't know how it happened."

"Oh." Your grip on your legs tightens ever so slightly. "I didn't even meet them in that timeline did I?"

"What, you mean Dave, Rose and John?" He takes off his glasses and turns to look at you. You are pretty sure that he's giving you a definite reassuring smile right now. If that's not it then maybe you need to rethink what smiling is. "John was still your brother even then. Kept in contact with him throughout your lives. And my bro and Rose?" There was genuine enthusiasm in his voice, though given that Dirk was Dirk it only really showed for a brief second. "Who do you think saved their lives when Condi went after them the first time?"

"Heh. She sounded like a great person." Especially compared to yourself, but you didn't tell Dirk that. You're completely fine with how things turned out for you after all. "Did you ever meet her yourself?"

"I'm meeting her right now."

That wasn't the reply you were expecting. "No, I'm just me. I didn't do anything as impressive as other me did."

"Hey now, self-depreciation's a Strider trademark." Dirk points a finger at you, any humor gone from his expression. "I've got half a mind to sue you for all you got."

That got a laugh out of you. It was a little more bitter than you were aiming for, but it was a laugh. Dirk looked pretty satisfied with it too. "It's getting really late. Maybe we should turn in."

"I don't know about you, but a near Death by Furry can keep a man from getting any shut eye." Dirk stifles a yawn and flash steps himself out of your bed. "Actually, after an experience like that I feel like building some abomination to science to make myself feel safe."

You wince. Dirk notices it too, and places a hand on your shoulder apologetically. You understand. It was a slip of the tongue, nothing more. It doesn't really hurt you, anymore than the non-existent trouble you've been having. "Would you like some input on that project from an expert on abominations to science?"

"I think you should sleep." Dirk insists. 

"I don't know about you, but a near Kill the Furry can keep a girl from getting any shut eye." It sounded so much better in your head than it did when you finally spoke that retort. Wordplay is hard. "Let me help. I haven't done any science projects in years."

He's completely given up on trying to make you go to sleep. You cannot stop Jade Harley when she is on a roll. "Keep the jargon simple for me, it's been a while for me too."

"That's fine! I'll lend you a thesaurus if you need help!" You giggle. Still a little harsher than your usual laughter, but Dirk doesn't seem to notice.

"Ouch. That is stone cold, Jade." He clutches his chest over his heart, fanning himself with his other hand. "And here I thought you're just a big friendly dog with human parts."

You smile. "Hehehe. This doggie's got fangs."

On some other part of the planet you and Dirk arrive via teleportation. For the rest of the evening and most of the morning after the two of you, mad geniuses both, are halfway through building a proton collider long enough to cover the Earth's circumference. Unfortunately Jane's Dad puts a stop to the project before you two even start working on its reactor (fusion, of course). Even so, the two of you have a good laugh and make plans for a Mass Driver instead. Dirk has some really good ideas you've never even considered, and you appreciate someone you can converse with about the intricacies of theoretical physics. 

You don't even remember why he went to your room in the first place.


	2. Jake

Your name is Jade Harley and the world reeks of blood and rot.

It has been two days since you found your Grandpa dead. The heat and humidity have not been kind, the stench of decay an all encompassing presence. With Bec’s help you manage to teleport his corpse inside the house, protected from the effects the climate on his body. He’s a good boy, Bec, and smarter than most animals, but for the next task at hand you have to act alone. It’s what Grandpa would have wanted, anyway. 

You are five, maybe six years old and already you are familiar with the tools in the taxidermy room. Grandpa always said you were a clever, gifted girl, destined for great things. He prepares you for that the best way he can, by fostering an environment where your scientific skills can blossom and filling the halls of your island home with all manner of wondrous things picked up from his travels. He also teaches you how to handle yourself with a gun, though you try not to think of that too much. The only wound on his body was a bullet to the heart, with no one else there to fire. When you are older you try not to think about that, what that could mean. But right now you are a child, dutifully cleaning the knives and scissors the way your Grandpa showed you. You stack some boxes up in front of the sink and push the cart holding the tools next to it. It’s simple, if monotonous work, and you take great care not to cut yourself while sterilizing the blades. Several times you almost drop one of the scissors, and you actually trip and fall when you fumble with one of the knives. It doesn’t hurt, you tell yourself, biting your lip to hold back the tears. Grandpa wouldn’t like it if you were crying over something like this. 

You move the cart next to the table where Grandpa’s corpse is lay. Normal clothing isn’t ideal for what you’re about to do next, so you put on a too large lab coat, rolling up the sleeves as best you can and putting on a pair of rubber gloves, trails of rubber drooping down your too-small fingers. The boxes are restacked once again, and you make sure not to trip on anything again, especially at a critical moment like this. Breathing slowly, you gather up your courage and your composure, and begin.

It is late in the evening when you finish. You don’t think you did a good job. The stitching was sloppy, you lose your lunch five times while taking out the organs, and you can’t get the stench of blood off of you. You waver on what to do next, whether to dispose of his innards as well or to preserve them in jars, whether to place Grandpa at the den or in any of the dozen rooms where he stored his possessions. Ultimately, that decision would have to be for later. You’re tired, so very tired, and you just want to curl up in your bed and sleep. 

Bec seems to have read your thoughts, because a second later you are back in your room. You climb back into bed, your hands red and sore from gripping the tools too hard. Your clothes are red too, from the blood, and you smell as bad as he did, but you don’t care. The only thing you care about now are the tears you’re trying your hardest not to shed, your mistakes at the operating table and the fact that he left you alone.

Seconds later you wake up, cold sweat running down your face. Strange. You haven’t thought of that day in years. You were just a child when it happened, and really, it wasn’t that bad in hindsight. Even if he was dead you could still see and talk to him, in a way. Already you’re imagining Rose making some clever comment about you ‘projecting’ or other silly things like that, but you know Grandpa better than anyone. 

You search the grass around you for your glasses. It was a warm, pleasant afternoon, so you decide to have a nap underneath a tree, atop a hill.While you’d much rather be having fun with your friends, there are still times when you’d much rather have a moment to yourself. Besides, you don’t want them to get tired of you sticking around everywhere they go. Everyone has a life outside of spending time with you, after all.

[i]An understandable desire, really. It’s not like you haven’t spent your life with other people, after all.[/i]

Someone steps forward, and hands you your glasses from a patch of grass a few meters away. It must have rolled down the hill, or something. You thank the person for finding your glasses, who then decides to sit down next to you, leaning against the tree. Minutes go by with neither of you talking. It’s starting to get awkward, so eventually you decide to go for some idle chatter, just to distract yourselves from the situation.

“It’s a nice day, isn’t it?” You ask.

Jake English thinks for a few seconds, scratching his chin. “By jove, it’s a right humdinger of an afternoon, isn’t it? Why it’s enough to make a man break into song, it does!” 

His eyes light up endearingly when he speaks, and you can’t help but laugh. Grandpa used to have the same vitality as Jake did. He even made the same expressions as he did. Well, technically he is your Grandpa, after all. At least, he’s a version of him from an alternate timeline, anyway. “I thought you and Dirk were playing sports? Soccer, I think?”

“Oh, he and Jane were busy doing something top secret. Perhaps they’re concocting some nefarious japery to spring on me later tonight?”

“Well you better be ready then! If they’re going to prank you then you should hit them with something just as clever! You can’t let them have all the fun.”

Hearing that causes Jake to rest his chin on his knees, smiling sadly. “Grandma used to talk like that.”

You may have struck a nerve. Stupid Jade, just stupid. You shuffle awkwardly away from him, but Jake responds by moving at the same rate as you are. “No, it’s ok.” He tells you. “It’s a good thing.”

You stop moving away from Jake, afraid that doing so would make things worse. He rests his head on your shoulders, his eyes closed. You lean your head on his, and place a hand on his. “I miss her.”

“Yeah. It’s alright.” You are not good at comforting others. The last time you tried Rose turned grimdark. “But you have memories of her. As long as you keep those she won’t really be gone.”

“Thanks. Do you miss your Grandpa too?”

“...I do. I miss him so much.” 

There’s silence between you two as you both reminisce of your dead guardians. Jake didn’t have his Grandma around for long too, from what Dirk told you. From the way he tries not to look you in the eye right now he knows that it’s the same for you. For the next hour or so you two stay there, reminiscing in silence. At one point you take off Jake’s glasses and wipe some tears for him. He does the same for you.

Grief turns into a kind of relieved peace, and that relieved peace quickly enough degrades into more awkward silence. Neither of you can stand it. It’s just not how you are.  
Since you were the one to break the ice earlier, it’s only polite of Jake to be the one to do it now. He smiles, and makes a finger gun gesture, his thumb resting on his nose. “I wager that I’m a better shot than you are.”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow. It’s harder than the television shows make it look. “What makes you say that, mister?”

“Well I was taught by the best sharp shooter ever! Half of what Grandma taught me’s worth more than everything your Grandpa schooled you in marksmanship your entire life!” You bite back the pang of pain in your chest. Jake didn’t mean it. He didn’t know. He was just being kind, even if in hindsight that might not have been the smart thing to say or do. Just like Grandpa, really. You take out one of the many rifles in your syladex, resting the forestock on your shoulder. Jake replies by showing off his pistols, twirling them around his fingers. 

“I’m going to make you regret challenging me.” You try to make that sound intimidating and impressive, but unfortunately the effect was ruined by your barely suppressed giggling. 

“Prepare to be thoroughly and utterly vanquished in the field of combat!” Jake was evidently convinced that he was bringing his prowess to bear, but it was hard to take him seriously when he changed into his god tier clothes for this game. 

Finally you can’t take it anymore. This overwhelming display of skill leaves you rolling around the grass, laughing as loud as you can. 

“I-it makes me feel confident!” He stammers, blushing.

Evidently he was right about that. You and Jake have an impromptu shooting match with some empty soda cans, and at the end of the competition he beats you by two cans. Maybe there really was something to do those briefs after all.

When Jake offers to alchemize you a copy “To imbue you with herculean confidence” you almost faint from laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was actually planning on making this chapter really dark and dramatic but somewhere halfway I changed my mind. I'm not really certain why though, but nevertheless I'm pleased with how it came out. I've rarely seen any fics with these two interacting, similar with Dirk. I suppose canon's partly to blame with how little time Jade shows up after Cascade, but there's enough stuff from the logs we have to to conjecture how they'd interact. It also helps that Jade's a naturally amiable person, so it's easy to imagine how she'd react. If anything it's how others react to Jade that's difficult to imagine, especially when she's playing up her enthusiasm to hide some things about herself.


	3. Roxy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as a heads up this chapter is a bit darker than the last ones.

Your name is Jade Harley and you remember wanting to kill your friends.

You’re hovering above your friends, wreathed in emerald fire. There is nothing but contempt in your eyes as you watch them gawk at you. Disgusting, every single one of them. They’ve spent years on that meteor together and what have they to show for themselves? A gangly, indecisive pack of weaklings who don’t even understand how to use their abilities, wallowing in indecision, that’s what they are. These are the people you’ve been longing to meet for years? What a waste. At the state they’re in Lord English would kill them all without breaking his stride.

Perhaps you should let it happen.

No, better. Perhaps you should end them now yourself. Killing them would be a mercy, really.

Much as you want to, that wasn’t part of the plan. The Condesce wants them all alive, as foot soldiers. Expendable ones, but every army needs cannon fodder. At the level they’re at however they wouldn’t even last long enough to do even that. So what she wants is for these losers to be whipped into shape, and who better to do that than you? After all, while they’ve been goofing off on their pleasure rock you were all alone, mastering every conceivable application of your powers. Not like you had anything better to do after all. Not after John and Davesprite died.

Every last one of them was huddled together in a group, except for Karkat. He walks forward, trying and failing not to tremble. He speaks, droning on and on about friendship and how you’re better than this. His swearing makes it funny, you concede, but ultimately you’re uninterested. He’s not even god tier, and if your ‘friends’ won’t stand a chance even with their powers, what could he do? 

You decide to cut his speech short. And his neck. The Condesce doesn’t need him anyway.

Kanaya is the first to react, charging forward with her chainsaw. Now her, the Condesce needs. Jadebloods will be necessary when the troll race is revived. You merely opt to break every bone in her body with a thought, and teleport its mangled form to Derse. 

Vriska and Terezi are next. Before she tries to use her psychic powers on you there’s a blue smear and a pile of body parts on the ground next to Terezi. Then a teal smear. You know Vriska will revive soon enough, so you teleport her remains somewhere far away. Like in the volcano of LOFAF. 

Next you deal with your human friends. Rose and Dirk fight you with no hesitation, but Dave and Roxy waver. Still, they fight admirably. Maybe they wouldn’t need to be trained after all. A second later, when you shrink Rose to a miniscule size and crush her with your hands effortlessly you change your mind. Dirk’s sword slashes are teleported away harmlessly, until you lose your patience and teleport his sword out of his hands. Then you do the same for his arms and legs. 

Seeing his brother de-limbed finally prompts Dave to fight you. Even then he’s begging, screaming for you to stop. You’re not like this Jade, please, please stop this, we can help you, this isn’t you Jade, you have to stop, this isn’t the Jade we know. It was cute, the way he sounded so desperate. But from the way that none of his attacks connect, even with all these time clones swinging their weapons around it was clear that his heart just isn’t into it. Unacceptable. Dave is supposed to wield the blade that can kill Lord English, but with his poor showing now he’d be vaporized before he could get even close. You’ll have to hold back your punches on him for now, until his training starts in earnest. You step back and dodge a half hearted slice, touching his lips with your finger. Dave is thrown off the meteor, accelerating at a modest speed of several hundred miles an hour. That should cool him off until it was his turn.

Roxy is the only one standing. Her fists are balled, and she moves into a fighting stance. Like Dave you can sense her reluctance. Like Dave her powers are vital to the plan, the most important arguably, so you don’t even bother to hit her. With a wave of your hands Roxy is lifted into the air, surrounded by a corona of green fire that keeps her from moving any more. You smile, and teleport away with the Rogue of Void. 

When you’re done with her she’ll actually be useful, just like you are.

You wake up in your room with a jolt, sweat and teardrops falling freely from your face. That dream again. It always ends the same way, with everyone hurt because of [i]you[/i]. Because you were weak. Because you were worthless. When they needed you the most you failed them, and because of that you almost killed everyone. You deserve to be alone, deserve to be forgotten. Who would bother to care for you at all? No wonder they left you, alone on that battleship. Would a failure who couldn’t even keep her own mind be entitled the friendship of others? The game granted you power, but what have you done with it, besides almost kill your friends? You couldn’t even keep a pair of dogs in line. In all honesty, had you been on that meteor with everyone else you would have ruined everything. 

Similar thoughts continue to stew in your mind until you find the strength to push them down, back into that little corner of your mind where all the useless thoughts are stored. The game is over, everyone is happy, the villain has been vanquished, and you didn’t even need to do anything. Just sit back and enjoy your new life with your friends, Jade. Nothing’s wrong, nothing at all. Everyone is happy and content now, so ruining that for everyone else is the worst thing you could do. You splash some water on your face and then teleport out of your room, to your garden.

In your spare time you’ve begun growing flowers again. Today you’re working at an empty plot, digging small holes in the soil. You’ve taken a liking to sunflowers recently. People say their heads follow the direction of the sun in the sky, but that’s a misnomer. It’s an impression people have when they see a group of sunflowers, augmented by the uniformity of the sunflower plant. You find that little fact interesting. You don’t like thinking about [i]why[/i] it’s interesting, however. It just is. You can like things without there being an underlying reason, after all.

“Jade!” You hear footsteps follow the sound of your name being spoken. What a pleasant surprise. No one really disturbed you when you were in your garden, or went there at all. 

Roxy stops by a wooden pillar where you keep the orchids hanging. She stretches up to grab the topmost plant, a blue flower in full bloom. “These are nice! You’ve been growing these all by yourself?”

“Yes I have.” You put down the trowel you’d been using and take off your hat, a wide-brimmed straw cap you use when it gets sunny. The weather didn’t warrant its use, but it’s cute and went real well with your gardening apron. You stand up and pat away the dust from your gloves on the apron. “I’m actually running out of space for them, actually!”

“Nah we’ve got like a whole planet and more for that, Jadey.” A nickname. You’ve never had one of those before as far as you can remember. “Oh, that reminds me!” Roxy returns the plant to its niche. She pulls you away from the empty plot you were working on. She holds up both hands, placing two fingers from each finger on the corners of her eye, face contorted in a look of concentration.

Seconds later, an orchid manifests on top of the empty plot. Then another. And another. Then a few more. After the twelfth or twenty-seventh orchids Roxy finally stops. You’re a little irritated, just a little bit, at Roxy ruining a perfectly good and not messy bed of soil. Oh yes, with your space powers cleaning this up would be a literal snap, but this is gardening! You wouldn’t dream of cheating like that. Even so, you try not to let your bad mood show. When you look at her once she finished, eyes lit up and smiling with pride at her achievement, you don’t dare. 

“Look at that! I’m getting even better at pulling shit out of nowhere!” She grabbed your hands, beaming. “It used to take me more than a minute to make something that wasn’t a block. Now I can do this-” Orchid twenty eight dropped onto the pile. “And it’s all thanks to you!”

You tilt your head, dog ears folded up. “Ummmmmm, I don’t really remember doing anything about your powers Roxy.”

She lets your hands go and looks away, scratching the side of her arm with her hand. “Right. Sorry. I mean other you. From the old timeline. The one who...”

This is your fault. Stupid Jade, stupid. You shouldn’t have said anything and just be happy for her. For everyone. “Oh. That. Don’t worry about it!” You smile, and you hope the slight twitch of your left eye doesn’t give you away. “That was really impressive, Roxy! It’s amazing what you can do with your powers!”

“Well, I wouldn’t have done it without you. Er, other you.” Roxy was smiling again, at least. “Other you was a pain but I don’t think I’d have bothered developing my powers without her.”

You try not to think about that, and fail. A version of you actually helped your friends. Somewhere, sometime, you actually accomplished something for them. It wasn’t much you think, but it was better than what you had to deal with, at what happened to you in this timeline. Because other you helped Roxy then the victory you all gained here was possible. Roxy killed the Condesce after all, something no one else was able to do. 

Maybe you aren’t such a failure after all. Maybe.

You and Roxy end up cleaning up the mess she caused. You don’t hold it against her, but you make a few light-hearted potshots at her for the orchids. Then with her help you finish planting the sunflower seeds. You even teach her some gardening techniques in case she decides to start one. 

Yeah, not a failure. At least, you don’t feel you are right here, right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I've always noticed is that Jade bases her self-worth on how powerful or useful she is. That was kind of the angle I was going for this chapter.


	4. Jane

Your name is Jade Harley and you’re not helpless.

The nightmares you’ve been having have been happening more often. You’ve been successful so far in weathering the worst of them, and in most times you barely remember what is was that was making your nights hell. Things are going better for you now, much better, even if it shouldn’t be on paper. Fervent denial of what was happening was not the way to go. You can do this, you can get through this, your friends have a happy ending and you will [i]not[/i] ruin it for any of them. You’re Jade Harley, and you’ve been through the apocalypse and beyond. A few bad dreams and a few evenings lost are not going to get the better of you. It’s the least you can do, for the people you care about.

As the first step to getting through this you’ve been busying yourself. Before you were doing it to pretend that there was nothing wrong. It was a mistake to think that logic would work. Now you’re busying yourself, away from everyone else to fix the problem. It might seem the same thing on the surface, but the intent was different. You need to purge yourself of these bad thoughts, fight them for as long as you can. You’ve taken to positive reinforcement, which is why the laboratory you’re working in right now is painted in bright, optimism inducing colors. Hedges of plants, all of which are supposed to signify happiness occupy almost half the space of the area. You have music playing as well, a catchy baseline you enjoy immensely. Even your experiment, a way to increase your endorphin levels reliably without becoming dependent on an addictive substance, is for the purpose of helping yourself your friends.

It takes only eleven minutes for everything to go wrong. Midway through grinding some herbs for your initial experiment a Bunsen burner sets fire to a squiddle plush that was sitting next to it. You hastily throw the plush on the ground and stamp it out. A mixture of chemicals that you’ve left to sit inside a beaker had evidently melted through the glass and was eating through the table. Your attempt at fixing this situation merely complicates things when you accidentally knock over a beaker of even more dangerous chemicals. At least this one didn’t melt things, but it did release a distressingly red fume that ends up wafting over the plants. And setting the flowers on fire. 

You are on full panic mode, running in and out of your lab to fetch some water for the fire. All attempts to use the fire extinguisher had been given up due to the foam actually igniting in contact with the gas. Other countermeasures fail as well, because you never set up any besides the fire extinguisher. A stupid mistake, but at least so far no one’s been hurt. It was a good idea setting up this new laboratory far away from most settlements on the planet. For one thing, it lets you take care of things without worrying that it might hurt the others.

Green fire covers the entirety of the laboratory, but this one isn’t caused by dangerous chemicals. With a flash of light every part of the laboratory that was on fire had been thrown into the void of space, leaving only a few portions of the facility on terra firma. The fire did more damage to more things than you thought it would have. It wasn’t a big place at any rate, and you could always build a new one. What is important is that everyone is safe, that this accident did nothing terrible to your friends. It doesn’t bother you, really it doesn’t, that you overlooked so many things and caused an incident like this. These kinds of things happen because you didn’t watch your surroundings, because you are such a mess right now. You’re quite certain you can fix things, fix yourself. You have to. Otherwise why bother showing your face to everyone?

After that any spirit of scientific inquiry and optimism that things will get better had gone away. You don’t really feel like finding a miracle drug to help you now. So you teleport back to Can town, appearing in a flash of green inside a kitchen. Right now you could use a snack, like a slightly irradiated steak perhaps. Before you could shuffle towards the refrigerator though, someone taps your shoulder with a wooden spoon. 

“Jade! What a surprise!” Jane says. Only now do you notice that the kitchen is occupied. A large amount of pasta was in a bowl atop a counter, next to several cans of tomato sauce. She had an apron on with her Dad’s face on it, which was absolutely adorable. Maybe you should alchemize aprons with Jane’s Dad’s face on for everyone. He was an awesome man after all. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

You wince. Or, rather, you wince without wincing. You’ve had years dealing with the Strilondes and their ability to seemingly come off as completely indifferent to any stinging remarks. From Jane’s expression it seems you’ve learned well. “Sorry about that!” You giggle. That usually helps in making people think you’re fine. “I’ve had some super secret projects that have been taking a lot out of my time.”

“You should take a break more often. People get worried.” Jane advised you. “Here, let me help you find something to eat.” She opens the fridge for you and beckons you towards it. The cold air coming out of it felt refreshing. “What do we have here...”

Quite a lot, actually. A lot of the food items inside were things you’ve never had before. You could even see a few items in strange-looking containers, with Alternian script written on it. The contents were probably edible for humans, seeing as how the others spent three years with the trolls without their diets seemingly changing. You spot a carton of juice that had the picture of an anthropomorphized orange. You haven’t had a mandarin orange in years, so you decide to take that out of the fridge. A nice, refreshing drink should help your mood immensely, and you pour yourself one as quickly as you can without spilling anything. Making a mess would be rude.

Jane joins at the table, which is long enough to accommodate everyone. She brought with her a plate of cookies, munching on one as she sat next to you. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” She asks you. 

“About what?” You ask her back. It was time to play out this game again. You figured no one else would pry after Dirk tried. Did he tell Jane about what happened? He wouldn’t. Would he? You’re not sure. You don’t really know Dirk that much. Or anyone else on this planet, for that matter. 

“Please don’t patronize me, Jade.” She says. “I’ve been where you are. Is there something you’re not telling us? Don’t worry, we’re here for you.”

Again with that line. You remember Dirk saying something similar, when he showed up in your room after a particularly...intense nightmare. Why can’t everyone understand that you’ve got this under control? It’s no big deal! You’ve had worse! Everything was going to be fine, and you don’t need anyone else to get through this.

You’ve been getting through most of your life alone just fine.

That’s right, perfectly fine. No need to tell anyone at all. No need to make anyone worry.

“Jade!” Jane’s hands grab hold of yours. The Egbert-Harley-Crocker-Englishes are an affectionate folk, so you welcome the contact. What you don’t welcome is Jane’s expression. She looked concerned. Worried. The frown on her face, the distress she was feeling hurt worse than her hand.

Oh.

That explains things. Like why there’s glass and spilled all over the table. And why you’re bleeding. You hadn’t noticed yourself gripping the glass so hard it broke. Guess you don’t know your own strength. 

You don’t actually say that though. No one would buy that excuse. “It’s fine! It doesn’t hurt that much!” You try to wave off Jane’s hands, but she refuses to budge. 

“Hold still.” Jane’s voice is patient, level. There was authority in her voice. It reminded you of those times when Bec was misbehaving and needed a stern talking to. You always felt bad about scolding him afterwards, but now that you’re experiencing what that’s like you wish you never talked to him like that. “Tell me if it hurts.”

It doesn’t, at least not as much as some might think. You’ve suffered minor cuts and bruises before when you were younger. Besides that you once had the pieces of a burning moon dropped on you. Even so, you still wince when Jane very carefully removes the glass shards from your hand. She wipes the orange juice away with a handkerchief, and once your hand is clean places one palm on the back of your hand and another on your palm. Jane’s powers as a Maid of Life did the rest.

She looks at you, still worried. Jane clasps her hands on yours, even though she’s healed it already. “It’s just us. You can tell me.” She reassures you.

Which is all the more reason for you not to. They’re your burdens, not theirs. Maybe you should say as much to Jane. 

Maybe you might as well break your friendship with her. No, you can’t do that. Jane is kind and sweet and supportive and much, much stronger than people give her credit for. She’s stronger than you, for one. You don’t want to hurt her. If she keeps seeing you like this it’ll cause trouble. Jane deserves better than that. 

So you lean back on your chair and throw your head up, sighing. “It’s my... project. I’ve been trying to get it to work for days! I’ve been trying to wrap my head around what’s wrong but I just can’t think of what’s wrong! Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.”  
“Your... project.” Jane rests her head on her hand, her gaze still fixed on you. You hate lying to your friends, especially when you use those half-lies, the kind where you’re deceiving them by being honest. “What’s the problem with it?”

“What’s not wrong with!? Every time I try to fix what’s wrong I find something new that needs fixing! And when I’m busy fixing that, the...parts I finished fixing earlier break apart!” You throw your hands up, growling. You think you’re putting up a good act to Jane, especially the part where you snarled. It was a pretty genuine one, if you say so yourself. It almost makes you proud of yourself by hiding it so effectively. The ‘almost’ in that is the part where you’re completely ashamed of yourself for hiding this in the first place.

Jane wasn’t buying it, you think. Her eyes flicker for a second, but that could mean anything. “Maybe...maybe this project needs to be collaborated on?” If she really wasn’t buying it, then at least she isn’t addressing it directly. You’re glad for that, at least. “Having other people would give you perspective. And it’ll help you with the really...tough portions of your project.”

“It’s not that hard!” You sputter. “I can fix it myself if I really put my mind to it! I shouldn’t be bothering everyone with it in the first place! Besides I can just work on it some other time when I’ve thought of a solution!”

“Well...” Jane sighs. It didn’t necessarily make her sound disappointed in you, but it could be. She rises from her seat and wraps her arms around your shoulders, resting her chin your head. “Don’t forget that there’s... experts here to help you, ok?”

You bite back tears. No. You’re stronger than this. You have to be. Hasn’t everyone gone through enough already? They don’t need to deal with you. But it feels nice, at least, Jane’s touch. Besides being kind and sweet and supportive Jane was also a very comforting person to be around. “I’ll think about it.”

You two stay there a few more minutes, until the embrace becomes a little too awkward for both of you. Jane breaks away from you, telling you once again that they’re all there for you before going back to work on tonight’s dinner. Before you teleport away to your room you hear her say she hopes you’ll be there with everyone else for dinner tonight.

You aren’t. You’re too tired. You’ve been too tired all the time, lately. Jane understands, at least. There’s a knock on your door later that evening. You answer five minutes later, but no one is there except a food cart full of different pasta dishes.

And a carton of orange juice. With a plastic cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really have much to say about this one. Except that we needed more conversations between Jade and the Alpha Kids. They would have been pretty interesting, I think.


	5. Rose

Your name is Jade Harley and you’re making progress.

Sleep had once more been an elusive thing. The nightmares continue to menace you whenever you close your eyes for longer than ten minutes. Your focus has been shot to hell for the past few days. It takes way too much effort for you to get out of bed in the morning, which is technically noon nowadays due to your aforementioned vendetta against sleep. You continue to convince everyone that everything is fine with you, which is done much easier by the fact that no one is asking and your increasing isolation from your friends. Any task you put your mind to makes you lose it, but you’ve found a highly effective solution that requires only a few items for it to work.

What you needed was a blanket, some pillows, and a modest amount of grist to construct a tower. Then you teleported the tower far away, in the middle of a mountain range. Should you feel the urge to do anything that could make your day worse, you simply lie down, place your head between some pillows and scream as hard as you can. It does have some side effects, like the geography around the tower changing abruptly, but you’re working on that. Perfect solutions did not exist, and this was far from that, but it works. Nobody’s bothered, you don’t set yourself up for a miserable day, and sometimes you almost, almost fall asleep without waking up with a dull, nagging pain at the back of your head. On occasion you leave the tower, mainly to have brief chats with your friends to ensure them that Jade Harley is still the silly weird girl that you’ll never have to worry about. Even if conversing with them taxes your mind with increasing frequency you manage to do it. Progress may not be as fast as you hope it would be, but it’s working. You are one hundred percent absolutely sure it’s working, without a doubt, sure as rain, as certain as something...something certain, like how much you hate-

A resonating thunderclap reverberates through the tower, but unlike last time nothing is on fire. You’re standing next to a window with your head sticking out, shaking as you take heavy breaths. It’s working. See? You turn away from the window and lie on your blanket with your back against the wall, looking at the unpainted white walls around you. Maybe later you’ll paint them something colorful. Bright colors meant positive thoughts, and for this to work positive thoughts are vital. Something yellow. Or blue. Maybe even hot pink. Definitely hot pink. Yes, definitely. You’ll start working on it tomorrow, you promise yourself, the same vow you made yesterday. And the day before that. Yes, it’s working. You’re fine. 

“Jade? May I come in?” A voice said outside your window. Hearing it makes you tense up, and you frantically teleport any mess inside your room. Since you’ve been living a Spartan life, there isn’t much thankfully.

“Oh, sure!” You answer cheerfully. You get up from the blanket and idly check your clothes for any ruffles or wrinkles that need patting out. None. So far, so good. “Please, come in!”

Rose Lalonde hovers into view, entering the room through your window. She places her feet on the flooring and you rush immediately to greet her, hugging Rose and lifting your friend up, laughing, albeit a little harder than you intended. You give her face a glance to see if she noticed, but Rose is smiling and in good spirits, at least you think she is. She chuckles as you put her down, returning the hug.

“Quite the hermit’s abode you’re living in, Jade.” She says, looking around. “I’d been expecting the walls to be painted, at least.”

“I’m getting around to it! I just need to pick a color.” The hermit remark stung a little, but you’d been expecting it and it didn’t show on your face how hearing that makes you upset. “Maybe something orange, what do you think?”

“Orange, you say?” She rests her chin on one of her hands, smiling. “It isn’t exactly what I would pick for an isolated domicile, but to each their own.”

“Really?” You ask, ignoring how cutting she sounded for just a brief second. That was just how Rose spoke, you tell yourself. “What would you pick?”

“Black, perhaps. Or navy blue. Maybe one of the darker purple hues.” Her voice becomes...melancholic? Sombre? It can be hard to tell, with Rose. “A dark green would fit handsomely as well.”

It wasn’t an odd set of choices. Dark colors could be very soothing to look at, and you could use something really soothing right now. “Hmmmm, that would be nice. But wouldn’t it make thing here look a little bit gloomy?”

“Gloom would be appropriate for this place, I would say.” Rose crossed her arms. She’d stopped smiling, adopting the same calm, neutral expression you often saw on her face. It was the kind of expression that told you she knows exactly what’s going on. “Fitting, considering its occupant’s demeanor.”  
“That’s kind of a weird thing to say, Rose!” Oh no, oh no, what gave you away? You’ve been doing so well and making so much progress, you can’t let them catch on. You continue to act as you’ve always acted, all smiles and laughs and silly antics. You’re Jade Harley and you won’t let your friends down. “I feel fantastic!”

Rose wasn’t buying it. Unlike Jane, you don’t think she’ll let that slide. “Jade. I’m sorry for springing this on you all of a sudden,” She reaches out to you, touching your arm. You try not to back off and move your arm away from her touch, and for the most part you succeed in not coming off as wary and stand-offish. “But your recent activities have been concerning. Dirk and Jane have mentioned the encounters they’ve had with you this past week,”

“Did they tell anyone besides you?” You ask, interrupting.

“No.” She continues, her expression shifting to one with more apprehension that you’re comfortable with. “I am the only one, and I asked them not to mention it to anyone else. At least, not until I have I talked with you first.”

Hearing that loosens the knot twisting in your stomach, somewhat. You’d been afraid of people talking about this, about you, like you were a problem or a burden that needs to be solved for the good of everyone. Admittedly you [i]are[/i], but you don’t need the help of others to fix this. What you’re going through is your problem, you repeat to yourself once more, as you’ve done over and over to hammer the point into your sad, miserable head, so you wouldn’t burden anyone with it. And you intend to tell Rose just that, but in a less depressing and concerning way.

“Sooooo, I’m pretty happy right now, if that’s what you’re wondering! Perfectly happy, see?” You twirl around in place, putting on the best smile you have. “But I can understand why Dirk and Jane were worried for me! I’ve been pushing myself a liiiiittle bit too much lately, but that’s why I’d been staying here lately.” You gesture to the blanket you’d been using for your bed. It was a plain white one, as were your pillows. “Hanging out with so many cool kids can be pretty exhausting!”

“I suppose it could be overwhelming, given the quality of the people you have the privilege of interacting with.” Rose placed a hand next to her lips, resting her elbow on her other arm. “But only if you had spent the bulk of your time in my and Kanaya’s company.”

You laugh, while the corners of Rose’s mouth twitch upwards ever so slightly. Got to keep up that Strilonde cool, after all. See? Everything was going great. Even someone as, well, nosy as Rose didn’t seem to think there was a problem. She wouldn’t be joking around with you if she wasn’t convinced, right? “Hehehe, I guess your standards for what’s cool are higher than mine, I guess!”

“No, merely that you see the good in others better than I do.” She says. “Just as I can see the opposite better that most.”

You tilt your head. “Hmm?”

“In hindsight, I should have seen the signs.” Rose sighs, looking away from you for a second. “I’ve a reputation for obfuscating my feelings in many matters. But, compared to you, I am a blithering idiot in gaudy orange pajamas playing at subtlety.”

You don’t like the direction this conversation is heading. You don’t like the way Rose is looking at you either. “I think your pajamas look pretty...” You say, trying to steer this conversation away from this direction.

“We really don’t know anything about you, do we?” She continues. “We’ve been friends for years, but it seems like we hardly ever talk to each other. And when we do, you hardly ever talk about yourself. You always ask how we’re doing.”

“It’s not like there’s anything worth talking about my life...” You mutter. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I was just a girl on some island far away. What’s there to say?”

“Quite a lot. But we hardly ever hear about you. At least, nothing that isn’t vague. But we hardly noticed the discrepancy, come to think of it.” It hurts to see Rose look at you the way she does now, like she’d made a huge mistake and only realized how badly she messed up. It shouldn’t be like this. You’ve hurt Rose again, and it’s all your fault. “It’s your perpetual cheeriness, I believe. John was never one to hide how feels, and Dave hides his so badly it’s impossible not to see what he really means. But you... you’ve made your happiness a cloak. An incredibly effective one. I wouldn’t have suspected a thing had it not been brought up.”

“Oh...um, thank you, I guess?” You try to act confused, and really, it’s not that hard. The way Rose was putting it it’s almost like she’s complimenting you. Great job Jade, even the notoriously sharp and clever Rose Lalonde had been fooled by your clever mask. 

“It wasn’t a compliment.” She says, looking pained. “It’s...it’s unsettling. Everyone’s getting worried. I do not wish to pry, but I will if it means finding a way to help.” Rose walks closer to you, offering an open palm. “I won’t judge you. No one will think of you any less for opening up. Let me help you, Jade, let us help you.”

You turn aside her hand, slapping it away. You don’t see how she reacted to that, because you’re hell-bent on keeping your eyes to the ground. “Remember the last time we talked? I mean, just us. Do you remember?”

It takes her the better part of a minute before she answers you. “I do. I remember.” Her eyes widen, realization hitting her. “It wasn’t,”

“It was my fault!” You interrupt, yelling. “If I didn’t tell you what happened with your Mom, you wouldn’t have died!”

“It was a moment of weakness-“

“That wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t there!” You scream. “If I’d been smarter, if I’d been more sensitive, we could have avoided all that! You didn’t have to die!”

“Oh...oh Jade...”

“You want me to open up!? Tell you everything wrong with me!? Is that what you want!?” You move forward, the ground shaking with each step. Rose backs away, her eyes fixed on yours. “Sometimes I used to think you didn’t like me! That you thought I was some insane weirdo that you could never take seriously! That’s why you rarely talked to me on pesterchum wasn’t it!” You see the horror on Rose’s face, and ignore it. “But I thought, that’s ok, once we play SBURB, once we finally meet face to face, things will be better!” You laugh, harsh and full of anger, more anger than you ever thought you had in you. “And it did, for all of you! Even if I always feel like a stranger around you, around everyone, things are still way better than when we were all frightened for our lives! I bet life on the meteor was horrible for all for you, wasn’t it!?”

“But that alright! Really, it is!” You realize that you’ve backed Rose in a corner, that one of her hands is shaking and clutching what you think looks like one of her wands. You don’t care. “Because you’re all happy now! What more could I want!? Why should I want anything else!? How dare I be so selfish!? All that matters is that you guys are happy! And are you happy, Rose!? You’re happy aren’t you!? You used to enjoy being a smartass who could see through everyone’s bullshit! You used to do it with Dave all the time even when he’s clearly not comfortable about it! Well!? Do you like what you’re seeing here now? Do you? You finally did it! You saw through me like the insufferable know-it-all that you are! Congratufuckinglations Rose Lalonde you brilliant genius!”

Rose’s reply is simple and effective. She hits the side of your face with her other hand, and when you look at her you can see the tears welling up at the edges of her eyes. What anger you feel turns to guilt, and the guilt turns to shame and the shame turns into more anger, but at yourself. Rose doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve to bear the brunt of your anger. You try to teleport away, to run and hide before things get even worse. Rose refuses to let you leave, and the hand she used to hit you pulls you towards her. She rests your head against her shoulder, which is a little awkward given that you’re much taller than she is. You don’t care. She doesn’t say or do anything besides keeping you in her embrace and you’re thankful for that. You don’t cry, because you don’t deserve to, not after what you said, but breathing becomes a lot less labored as she strokes your hair, her head tilted so it touches the side of yours. You feel tired, so tired, and it feels so nice to be held by someone even if you’d hurt them just moments earlier. All you want to do is sleep, sleep and forget everything that’s ever happened.

 

Rose is still there sitting next to you, hours later when you wake up. You were resting your head on a purple pillow that Rose must’ve had, seeing as what’s left of your pillows was a pile of ashes. Sleep was an empty, brief but dreamless affair this time, and you still feel exhausted. She’s looking at you, concern written on her features, and seeing that makes you feel even more ashamed of what you’d said.

“Sorry.”You say, your head facing the pillow. Looking Rose eye-to-eye wasn’t going to happen soon.

“I shouldn’t have forced you to talk.” She answers while stroking your hair. “Do you really think I’m a know-it-all?”

You groan. Rose chuckles at that. 

“I’m sorry. About lots of things.” Rose says. She stops stroking your hair so she could turn your head around. With some effort she succeeds, and you see that her eyes were red and puffy. “Especially about how I made you think I didn’t like you. I suppose I was little jealous.”

“Jealous?” Of you?

“Your relationship with your grandfather was better than the relationship I had with my mother. You knew so much about the game than I did. And no matter what I said or how much I tried I could never tell how you really felt. I ended up giving up and assuming things about you at face value.” Wow. You’d never have guessed that’s what Rose thought of you. “I think that’s why I avoided talking to you too.”

“So...” This was a lot to take in. “Are you going to tell everyone else?”

“Do you want me to?”

You don’t have an answer to that.

“I won’t then, but you should tell them yourself. Will you permit me to have sessions with you once a week from now on?”

You don’t have an answer to that either.

“I’m afraid I won’t take no for an answer, Jade.”

“...”

“We don’t have to talk. We could just...hang out. Enjoy each other’s company.”

“That’d be nice.” You finally say, after some awkward silence. “Can it be the same time as today?”

“I would enjoy that.”

“Hey, Rose?”

“Yes, Jade?”

“Can I try on your god tier clothes?”

“If you’ll let me wear yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's always struck me as strange that amongst the kids Rose and Jade rarely interacted. John and Dave are best bros, as are Roxy and Jane, and we all know how Dirk and Jake are like with each other. But Rose and Jade? Nope. It's a weird thing really, since Homestuck at its core are these distant kids connecting with one another, but that's not really a thing you see between Rose and Jade. In fact I'm pretty sure they've never talked post-Cascade, so that's 5 years IRL. Personally I've always thought that was a huge wasted potential on Hussie's part, and I have a lot of gripes concerning wasted opportunities in homestuck. 
> 
> I'm not sure if I'd go with John or Dave next. Guess I'll figure that part out tomorrow.


	6. John

Your name is Jade Harley and you’re exhausted.

The past few days have been difficult. Well, the past few weeks have been pretty tough all in all, but things have really come to a head since your talk with Rose. Confessing your problems to her brought you some relief, enough to find the strength to go about your day without any incidents happening. Even so, it hasn’t really solved anything. Oh sure, she’s been checking on you from time to time, intervening when she can whenever your temper flares, but that doesn’t mean it’s over, not by a long shot. You still feel like hell every time you leave the sanctity of your room (the old room, the one near your greenhouse. Rose said it would make things less stressful if you were around friends. You’d wanted to disagree with her, but she had a point that it would make the others worry less.) and you still couldn’t sleep properly, but this was much better than your living conditions at the tower. You still feel miserable all the time and it still makes it near-impossible for you to do anything without causing a mistake that makes your blood boil. But you think you’re being a burden to anyone anymore. You hope. Rose assures you that you’re not, and everyone else continues to treat you the same way, but you can’t really be certain, can you? The doubt clings to the back of your mind just as bad as the nightmares do, but you continue to persevere.

Currently you’re pursuing the simple task of doing absolutely nothing besides reading a book. Rather than worry about how normal activities are a chore to finish at best and a disaster at worst, it would be easier and more interesting to mess up something completely new! So you decide to alchemize an old physics book you remember seeing in your Grandpa’s library. The original was old, worn and its spine was falling off. The new copy looks, well, brand new. There’s probably something symbolic about that, but symbolism was never your thing. 

You find an unoccupied room furnished with some comfy-looking recliners and a fireplace. The curtains were open, letting in ample light and a cool breeze. You couldn’t ask for a better place to spend your afternoon reading things and not having this persistent, nagging feeling that everything you’ve done with your life has been a huge waste of time. There is absolutely no way you could mess this up, no way at all that doing something as simple as reading a book could mess up your day. 

Four pages in you close the book and throw it behind the recliner. Nothing written in that book is new to you, the rules of how the universe works an inherent knowledge to a Witch of Space. It was the wrong book to pick. Yeah, that’s it. You teleport away and return with a different book, this one a collection of old fairy tales that you’ve never read before. Resting your head on the soft arms of the chair and your legs on the opposite side, you take a deep breath, open the book to a random page and slam it shut. It really shouldn’t surprise you that the first story you see is Little Red Riding Hood, of all things. Given how bad your days have been, of course that’s the first thing you see. But you’re not going to let that ruin your day, so you open the book once more and flip the pages to the next story.

It’s the Sleeping Beauty. You flip over and bury your face into the recliner’s arm and scream, throwing the fairy tale book away, successfully resisting the urge to set things on fire again. Eventually you lose the energy to bemoan your situation and gain just enough to pick up a few more books. The new ones are better, somewhat, in that they don’t make you hate yourself utterly. Unfortunately most of these books were just as good at being uninteresting as they were at not inspiring self-loathing. At best you manage to hold your attention while reading them for a hundred, maybe a hundred and ten pages before they end up in the ever growing pile of discarded books behind you.

The funny thing was that you didn’t really feel...anything right now. Before everything always felt terrible and it never ended, unless you fell asleep. And even then you were really switching one different torment for another. Here in this room though, with your pile of unread books all you feel is...nothing. Just a nagging emptiness that felt neither hot nor cold. At least you don’t feel awful now, which you should logically feel good about, but that’s the thing. There was nothing, just intense apathy for everything. Somehow, you think, this is even worse than the nightmares, but you couldn’t muster the energy to even feel bad.

You’re too tired to even keep track of time. It feels like you’d been staring at the whitewash of the ceiling for only a few minutes, but as it turns out you’ve actually been doing nothing for far, far longer. It’s only when the ceiling turns a shade of red and the shadows grow longer that you realize that it’s sunset. Had you been able to muster the effort, you would have estimated that you were in this room for six hours, maybe longer. You curl up against the recliner, pressing your forehead against the backrest. It was dinner time right about now, but hunger isn’t really on your mind, even if your last meal had been this morning. You know you should be eating, because it’s the normal thing to do and eating means sharing a room with friends, but you’re too tired. Too tired to move, too tired to eat, but, almost infuriatingly, not tired enough to sleep. Maybe if you stay put some more you’ll finally doze off.

A nice, cool breeze wafts into the room, moments before your eyes become heavy enough for sleep to come. The breeze brought with it a strong, mouth watering scent that makes your canine instincts perk up, even if the rest of you doesn’t find it particularly tantalizing. You rise up from the recliner, rubbing one of your eyes and pretending to yawn. “Who’s there?” 

“Just me.” John flies into the room, holding a food tray. You see a nice, juicy steak covered in gravy on a plastic plate, with those little steamed vegetables on the side. There’s also two smaller platters with cheesecake on them, plus a pair of glasses filled with orange juice. “Rose said you’d be here so I brought you dinner.”

The smell’s too tantalizing for you to resist, and regardless of your mood right now you know you have to eat. You pick up the plate, sitting back down cross-legged on the recliner and placing your dinner in between your legs. John takes up the seat next to you, holding one of the glasses in his hands. 

“Woah, slow down Jade.” John chuckles as he watches you wolf down your dinner. “It’s like you haven’t eaten in days.”

He’s not half wrong about that. You muster up some self control and slow down your chewing, so that you don’t put food in your mouth at the same rate as you swallow. It should be embarrassing, but you don’t particularly care at this point. All that matters to you is that you’re full and satisfied. “Has everyone finished yet?”

“Yeah, we have.” John confirms. “Everyone was wondering where you were! We haven’t been seeing you around lately, Jade.”

Ugh, this again. While you understand why your friends would ask you this every time you talk with them, repeating the same excuses over and over again can get tiring. “Mmf fn’.” You mumble before taking a drink.

“You are?” John asks, accusingly. You don’t really like the tone in his voice. “Are you sure?”

“Yes John, I’m fine. Never better.” You tell him the most enthusiastic way possible.

Somehow he isn’t convinced. You’re not surprised. “It’s just...oh, it’s nothing.” He waves a hand dismissively. “Forget about it.”

Now this catches your attention. “What is it? Tell me.”

“Do you want me to?” John looks visibly uncomfortable, trying to avoid your gaze. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t think you’d be happy to hear it.”

You sigh. What could he say that’d make things worse? “I won’t be mad, John, it’s alright! I’m your sister.”

That didn’t sound very reassuring, at least to John. He sighs, and then turns his chair to face yours. “Well... you sound just like her. Old Jade. Um. The Jade from the timeline Roxy and I came from. She used to talk like you do all the time after the breakup with Davesprite. And before that, come to think of it.” 

Old Jade. That’s what your brother said. You’ve never really thought about it like that. John- the John from this timeline- along with your Davesprite died back at the battleship, years ago. So was Roxy, since the original Roxy of this timeline died as well. It was a...troubling thing to think about. “So...” You hesitate. Do you really want to know what John meant by sounding just like the Old Jade?

“Jeez, this is that thing I had with Dave last week all over again...” John mutters under his breath. “Look, forget it, alright? It was just a slip of the tongue, I didn’t mean it, I was being dumb, I’m sorry, why don’t we go watch a movie instead?”

“No, we are not watching a movie John Egbert.” You tell him, sighing. He seems a little upset at where this conversation is going, and part of you wants to drop it. A much larger part of you however, is curious. Your knowledge of the past timeline is vague at best, so it makes sense that you would want to know what happened to the ‘other’ you. “Tell me why I remind you of Old Jade right now.” The doors and windows slam shut as you finish your sentence. Space powers can be pretty good at making a statement.

Your brother continues to avoid looking you in the eye, biting his lip while he scratches the back of his head. “Well... you just do, ok? Back when I was still on the battleship- the other battleship,”

[i]Old. Other.[/i]

“She, I mean you, you started being distant. In the first year we spent on the Battleship everything was fine, but then you and Davesprite broke up and everything became worse.” He puts his glass down, sighing. “You kept saying everything was fine and that things like that just happened, even if you sounded weird when you were talking about it. Then me and you from my timeline stopped hanging out as much as we used to and it became real hard to talk with you. It was a pretty awkward time for everyone but then it got worse when Betty Crocker took your brain over and make you crazy and you just kept chasing me around! You were so angry and I thought you might kill me! And when you weren’t doing that you locked Roxy up and made her train her powers and forced Dave to get stronger too! And then before I knew it everyone was dead and we had to start over again! And now you’re acting just like old Jade before everything went wrong!”

This was a lot to take in. First, there was the way John talked about the other version of you. Old Jade. The Jade from Another Timeline. What did that make her? What did that make everyone from this timeline? You don’t think John means anything bad about it, but it’s something you shouldn’t dwell on. Second, he said that you were acting just like her, before events took a turn for the worse. So, turns out you absolutely do have space for more emotional pain in you after all! This was... troubling. You’ve been feeling sad and alone for so long, and apparently because of that you made things worse. It was nice to realize this now. It meant that no matter what you did you’d somehow mess up and endanger everyone.

“I...She wasn’t happy?” You ask him. There’s so much more you want to ask but that was the important one. 

He opens his mouth to answer you, but pauses, cupping his chin and looking even further away from you. “At the start? Yeah, you, she was. But, not as much as I thought, I guess. I’ll be honest I don’t really know a lot about you, Jade. For all I knew Old Jade had it bad longer than I thought she did. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Of all the things he could have said, that certainly wasn’t what you expected him to say.

“Yeah... I think we should’ve tried getting to know you more. I mean, we hung out and had fun and stuff but besides that...” John pulls his legs to his chest and wraps his arms around them, turning himself towards you. He’s trying to make eye contact with you, but there’s hesitation in his movements. You’re ok with that. You don’t exactly want to look at him too.

“You have nothing to apologize for, John.” You mimic your brother, curling up against the recliner as you do so. “I didn’t get to know our John. The John we had, I mean. You died with our Davesprite, early into our voyage.”

“Ow.” He flinches. “I think I understand why you and Dave don’t like it when I talk about my, er, the versions of you guys from my timeline.” 

“No, no it’s fine.” You sigh, closing your eyes. You’re starting to feel even more tired than before. “But, it hurt a lot when you left me alone on the battleship. I mean, Nannapsrite was there and so were the consorts, but it wasn’t the same. I’m glad, at least, for the me in your timeline.”

“Glad?” John asks, surprised. “I don’t mean to be negative sis, but she died.”

That got a giggle out of you. A brief one that you noticed set your brother on edge, but it’s the first time you’ve felt positive all day. “That was pretty bad, but at least she was happy. Even for a moment, and even if things went bad, at least she got to be with her brother.”

“Might as well be with someone if you’re going to be miserable, huh?” John muses.

For the second time today your brother makes you feel better about yourself. You’re starting to see why Rose loves this brand of humor so much. “Yeah! It’s much better if you share, I think.”

“Hehehe.” John floats up in the air with his wind powers and lifts you up with a sudden gust. He grabs you mid-air and pulls you in for a hug. “I’m sorry for being such a shitty brother Jade. From now on I’ll be the best older brother ever! If you need me I’ll be there. Except Tuesdays. I might be too tired from wrestling with Jake to be a good brother. But any other day...”

Laughter fills the air, loud enough to be heard outside. It was amazing, being able to feel something other than apathy and exhaustion. Actually, you still feel a lot of the latter, quite a lot more now that you were feeling somewhat better. You press your face against John’s shoulder, yawning, eyelids heavy. “You’re such a huge dork John.”

You feel another breeze blowing around you, but you don’t need to look to see John carrying out of the room. You mumble a weak protest that you can get to your room on your own that’s rudely ignored by your brother as he lays you down a comfy mattress that’s probably yours. Gratitude replaces irritation as he tucks you in, your last thoughts before drifting to sleep being relief after hearing your brother speak. “It runs in the family. You’re going to be alright, Jade.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! It took me a week, the longest so far to finish this chapter. Writing about this aspect of depression, the one where you just don't feel like doing anything at all was difficult to imagine. The chapter ended up becoming more optimistic than I think it would've been, but I'm pleased with it nonetheless.
> 
> I honestly really love John since that earnestness that borders on oblivious thick headedness of his is pretty endearing, but he can be such an ass because of that. I was thinking
> 
> Next up, Dave.


	7. Dave

Your name is Jade Harley and you just can’t sleep.

Today was a great day. No intense self-loathing, no bouts of apathy and mental exhaustion. You spent time with your friends today, and in the ensuing period you do not force yourself to show a happy front so they wouldn’t worry. In fact, what happiness you did express when around your friends was genuine! Even the anger you felt when John successfully pulled one of his infamous bucket pranks on you wasn’t rooted in some subconscious self-hatred being projected onto a less serious matter, and when you flare bright green and shrink your brother as payback no one is slightly disturbed and trying to keep a safe distance away from you, or speaking carefully as if anything could set you off. In fact it lead to an entire afternoon of escalating trickery culminating into a stern lecture from Dad after John kind of caused a cyclone (which he swears was an accident). All in all, you actually felt at peace with yourself this afternoon.

Predictably, the evening would be a different beast altogether.

It started innocuously enough. While walking back to your room that night you felt uncomfortably annoyed upon finding your quarters to be messier than normal. You chalk this up to your exhaustion from today’s activities, and promptly clean the place up with a snap. Predictably, this fails to do anything positive with your mood, but at least no one’s going to be tripping on plush toys anytime soon. So, since that didn’t work you decide to have a shower before bed. The water ended up being too hot and you slip and hit your head on the shower knob. It would’ve been easy for you to teleport out of the way, but you were too busy musing if you said anything that might have worried your friends, in hindsight. In more hindsight, worrying in the shower and not paying attention to your surroundings may have been the reason why borderline scalding water was poured over your head. That or you need to readjust the water pressure, but you’re only thinking of that to distract yourself. At the risk of this series of events escalating into a breakdown, you hastily dry yourself up and get into your pajamas. They’re alchemized replicas of your dream pajamas from long ago. Wearing those feels just a little morbid at times considering you’d died in them years ago, but that was in the past. More importantly, they were the comfiest sleepwear you’ve ever donned. With these on, surely you’d be able to get some shut-eye.

Two, maybe three hours later you remember that you’ve never really slept in these pajamas before. That probably has nothing to do with the fact that you keep waking up every few minutes or so, cold sweat dripping down your forehead after a particularly bad nightmare. You’re not sure what’s worse about these particular nightmares; that you don’t remember them, or that whatever it was you were dreaming of was bad enough that a lack of memory of what they are is a comfort. Replacing the pjs with something less warm might help, as does using thinner blankets, or none at all. It was a pretty warm evening after all, and that may be exacerbating things. The yellow top is replaced with a sleeveless shirt with a blue atom disk on its chest, but you decide to keep the skirt because it’s damn comfortable. You try to sleep once again, this time without using any blankets, like you used to during summer nights on the island.

Fortunately it works, and you don’t feel the heat as much anymore! Unfortunately, it does nothing for the nightmares, nothing at all. When wake up with a scream caught in your throat that you quickly suppress before you alarm your friends, you realize something important; not remembering your nightmares was much, much better than remembering.

You curl up in a fetal position, eyes twitching as you try to wipe tears away from them. It was that dream, the one where you returned from death as a sprite. You don’t remember the friends you were taken away from when you –not other you, not alternate universe you, just you- brought yourself back, but you remember the loss, the longing, the pain of being forced back to a world that just wants to hurt you. You remember slapping yourself silly, the rage and frustration you felt at yourself for being such a useless person at such an important time, but from a different perspective. On some level you knew these feelings were there once you fused with your sprite in ascending to God Tier, but only now does the pain Jadesprite went through feel personal. Thinking about it makes you feel sick and ashamed of yourself. Self pity is an exhausting thing, and eventually you become tired enough from the effort of not becoming a sobbing wreck at this time of night to fall asleep. It felt nice, at least for the first four or five minutes before the nightmare started again.

_He’s dead, oh god, oh god he’s dead. It’s only been a few hours since you met him for the first time in person how could things turn for the worse so fast? You should’ve known, you should’ve seen this coming when you still could see the dream clouds. That’s why you were awake before them weren’t you? This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of this was supposed to happen. You just wanted to play a game with your friends, wanted to meet another human being. You’ve been visiting their dream towers for years, watching them sleep, so close, so close. This is all your fault, because of your negligence John almost died and Rose is insane and Dave is dead. His head still rests on your lap, blood covering his body. You can’t help but stare at his corpse, at his bloody shredded chest (torn apart buy your bullets), at his empty, lifeless eyes, at the blood on his lips. You touch yours, and try to forget (and fail) the taste of blood. The kiss supposedly would revive him, but that’s hardly any comfort, not that you deserve any. Dave is dead and you killed him._

You open your eyes and see Dave, alive, over you. His sunglasses are off and he’s looking at you with worried, crimson eyes. He sighs, relieved, dropping down on his knees and resting his head against your bed. “You ok?” 

“Y-yeah, I am.” You answer, your gaze turning away from him. Dave’s eyes remind you too much of what happened. You have to fold your legs against your chest, dragging the blanket over them. “I’m alright now, Dave.”

“Like hell you are.” He gets up from the floor and sits on the spot where your legs had been, his back leaning against the bed post. “You don’t cry in your sleep while saying sorry over and over again and be president for life of the People’s Republic of Happystan.”

“Dave-“You start, but he cuts you off before you can ask him to leave.

“Come on, Rose’s therapy bullshit can’t be that hard,” He gets a good look of your face, making him pause. “ But if it makes you feel better then I’ll go. Forget this ever happened. I won’t tell anyone, promise.”

You decide to tell him. “I had a dream about the time I killed you.” 

Dave freezes, his mouth open. It’s his turn to refuse eye contact with you now, though his gaze flickers back to your face every few seconds. You can see him trying to regain composure, but he’s about as successful at that as you are at convincing him you’re fine. Telling him was a mistake. 

“You mean...” 

“Yes. Back then.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry about it Jade.”

That...wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. Part of you was expecting a lot of awkward silence before Dave excused himself and left the room, then neither of you ever bringing it up again. From how he’s eyeing at the door whenever he thinks you’re not looking at him, that might just have been what he intended. But there’s something troubling at how blasé he was about that. 

“Don’t worry about it?” You repeat his words. 

It doesn’t look like he wanted to hear that from you. “Shit Jade, that was three years ago. It’s nothing, water under the bridge. So much water the countryside’s flooded and the bridge is Noah’s ark, except there’s no room for the animals and every man for himself. Just, forget about okay?”

Nothing about the metaphor made any sense, and Dave still won’t look at you. “That’s it?”

“I die all the time, no big. Everything turned out fine in the end, so no problem, right?”

You’re silent, staring into his face as you contemplate what he said. He doesn’t look very comfortable with it, but he hasn’t left the room yet. “We’re all happy now.” 

“We are.” He agreed. 

“Completely.”

“Happiest idiots in paradox space, that’s what we are.”

“So happy it should be a crime!”

“We plead guilty for Excess Merriment, officer. Lock us all up in Cuddlefuck penitentiary and throw away the key.”

And that’s when you lose it. You start giggling, joined in by a snort and a chortle from him. The laughter becomes louder and more frequent until you’re both lying on your bed, clutching your stomachs as the two of you catch your breath. When you’re both laughed out Dave breathes a sigh of relief. He’s looking at your face with a worried expression badly hidden behind joy. You give him a smile, and that seems to brighten his mood somewhat until you snap your fingers and teleport the both of you out of your room.

That wasn’t really what happened. Instead of the two of you appearing outside you’re both still inside your bedroom. A cursory look out of the window however, shows that your room was currently at the other side of the planet. 

And that’s when you _really_ lose it.

“DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT!? WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT!”

The sheer volume of your voice catches him unawares, making your friend roll out of your bed and crawl away from you, his back still on the floor and his eyes not leaving yours. He wasn’t expecting that.

“J-jade-“

“Do you know how horrible that was for me!? Finally meeting your friend you’ve been waiting for for _years_ , and then seeing them die? I could’ve done something about it! I could’ve saved you! It didn’t have to end with me shooting you in the back!” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” He stammers. “That’s just how things were, alright? You resurrected me anyway, it all worked out in the end.”

“Then why are we in the middle of nowhere with me screaming at you, Dave!?” You get out of bed and approach him. He’s on his feet now, still backing away until he hit the wall. “Because of me you were hurt! How could you be ok with that!?”

“Because I knew it was going to happen, ok?” He answers back, his voice turning harsh like yours. “How do you think I felt, knowing that at the end of having a good time with my friend I was going to get killed and there’s nothing you can do about it?”

For a second you falter, feeling a pang of guilt for making him remember what happened. It quickly gave way to more anger, as you realize something that was at the back of your head for a long time now. “You knew. You knew and you didn’t tell me.”

He closes his hands into fists, gritting his teeth. “I didn’t. What was I supposed to say, ‘hey Jade we’re going to have some sweet times but at the end a hellbeast’s going to come over and make you shoot me’? Do you know how fucked up that’d be?”

“That sure would be better than having it be a surprise, wouldn’t it? Maybe then I wouldn’t have spent an hour crying over your corpse and having bad dreams about it for three years!”

“I did it for your protection, so you wouldn’t worry! You’re too nice to have something like that happen! You wouldn’t take it so well if you found out you were going to shoot me!” 

The patch of wall next to his head cracks when your fist hits it. You draw yourself closer to him, with your noses almost touching. “Well congratulations Dave Strider! You did it! You kept poor, sweet, innocent Jade from getting her feelings hurt! Great job coolkid, you’re the best! Actually, I think I should thank you!”

“Jade-“

“So thank you soooooo much!” You cut him off, snarling as you bite back tears. “Thanks for thinking I couldn’t handle something like that when I’ve known that I was going to die for years too!”

“Wait wha-“

You cut him off again, punching the same spot on the wall to keep him quiet. “I sure love knowing that my friends don’t have any faith in me at all!”

“That’s not what I meant, Jade.” He protests to deaf ears. 

“Did you really think I couldn’t handle it?” You bite your lips to stop them from quivering, so hard you draw blood. 

“Shit, of course not! You’re a fucking badass Jade!” 

Somehow that pisses you off even more. “Now you’re just kissing my ass, you fuckhead! Answer me! Did you think I. Couldn’t. Handle. It?”

“ _I_ couldn’t handle it, alright!” He fires back, making you step a few inches away from him. “I didn’t want to hurt you, okay? I don’t want to do that you, not ever! The worse thing I could ever do is fuck up and hurt my friends.”

“Really? Thanks Dave! You did an amazing job on that too! God, you’re the best coolkid!”

“You’re right, you’re right! I should’ve told you! God, I’m such a fuckup-“

You cut him off a third time. The snarl he lets out is almost as nasty as yours. “Don’t you play that ‘sad, self-loathing hero’ card on me, Dave!”

“I’m not playing any cards Jade!” He answers back, his voice rising. “I fucked up alright? Maybe if I had a less shitty upbringing I’d have...”

Fourth time’s the charm. “Oh don’t you dare go there Dave! Don’t give me that ‘tragic childhood’ bullshit! I lived alone with no one but a dog for company and fended for myself! I had to stuff my own grandfather when I was four! But I never hid things from my friends and blamed it on my goddamn childhood like that fixes everything!” 

Dave stops, frozen again, staring at you with a shocked expression. Then he puts his hand over his eyes and laughs. “Pot. Kettle. Black. Holy shit, Jade, holy shit. Are you even listening to yourself!? You sound like a fucking hypocrite to me, you know that!?” He takes his hands off his eyes and goes back to staring at you, his glare as harsh as yours now. “You never told us anything about that! _Maybe_ we wouldn’t think you were a starry eyed nerd with your head in the clouds all the time if you told us about your problems! What did you like being a goddamn Martyr so much?” 

He walks towards you, and it’s your turn to have your back against the wall, your turn to have the wall next to you pounded in frustration. “‘Oh I’m Jade, I secretly hate my life but I’ll pretend to be happy all the time so no one would think nothing bad ever happens to me! I’m so great for this but no one must know!’ That’s what you sound like right now Jade, don’t even try to pretend you don’t!”

“I didn’t want you guys to worry for me!” You scream. That struck too close to home. “I didn’t want any of you to think I was some worthless weakling who couldn’t handle herself!”

“Gee, Jade, I sure love knowing that you never trusted any of us at all!” He snaps. 

“I trusted all of you!” You retort. 

“Wow, that’s probably why we’re only finding out now how you’ve been secretly miserable for a long time, haven’t we?” 

“Everyone is happy now!” You point a finger at his chest. “I’m not going to ruin that for everyone!”

“Wow, Jade, wow. I guess I’m not the only one who should be getting congratulated, am I?” 

“You selfish, self-obsessed asshole with your tortured hero complex!”

“Well at least I’m not a crazy mood-swinging bitch with a martyr complex!”

That’s it; you’ve reached your limit. You don’t even bother to stop the tears from flowing. “Yeah...that’s right. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything. Not to you, not to anyone. Maybe... maybe I should just go away. Be alone. At least then I wouldn’t ruin everything.”

“No...Jade...no.” You can’t bring yourself to look at Dave, but from how his chest is heaving you can tell that he’s crying too. “No. This one’s on me. Fuck, I already said it was my fault, didn’t I? If I’d been more honest... shit, Jade, I’m so sorry.” He rests his forehead against yours, and you take his hands into yours, fingers grasping tightly. “You were alone for three years...hell, maybe even longer. I...we should’ve tried to understand you more.”

“That isn’t your fault.” You tell him, your voice hiccupping. “I should’ve been more open with all of you. I shouldn’t have acted like everything was fine when it wasn’t.” You hold his hands tighter, but he gently pulls away one of his hands to wipe some tears away from your face. “I’m sorry, Dave. I’m really sorry for everything. I shouldn’t have said what I said. You didn’t deserve that. And I guess I didn’t understand you that much either, did I?”

“Nah, you did. Hell, you always made me feel good about myself after I talk with you.” You move your free hand towards his face and return the favour. He smiles when you hands brush his cheek. “Thank you for that, really.”

You return his smile, continuing to wipe away the tears from his face until your hand drops down to your side. You feel light-headed, swaying in place while your eyelids become heavier. The last thing you feel are his holding your shoulders before you fall into a deep, dreamless slumber.

 

It’s morning when you wake up, or mid-day, you can’t tell. You still tired after sleeping for who knows how long, but it’s better than how you felt last night. Dave’s right next to you, your heads touching each other while your backs are against the front of your bed. No wonder your neck aches so badly. He wakes up moments after you, rubbing a bloodshot eye. It didn’t seem like he got a good night’s sleep either.

“Good morning.” You say.

“Yeah.” He nods. 

“You’re holding my hand a little too tightly.” You look down to your hands still entwined with each other. His fingers were leaving red marks on your hands, and looking at his hand as it was removed from yours you did too. 

“So, we cool?” He asks you, the question heavy in his throat.

“I don’t know.” You answer truthfully. “I told you how I felt, at least.”

“Sounds about right.” He nods again. “It’s a start, I guess.”

“Not a very good one, though.” You say sadly.

“Yeah.” He concedes.

“But a necessary one, I think.” 

“Might as well get all the bad air out at the start.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“I’m still tired.”

“Yeah, so am I.”

You stretch your arms and snap your fingers, teleporting yourself back on your bed. You hear Dave grumble, so you teleport him on the other side. “I think I’m going to sleep some more.”

That gets a chuckle out of Dave. “Really, Jade? Whatever happened to not sleeping your life away from now on?” 

“This is different. This time I’m not alone when I go to sleep.” You smile as you close your eyes. You can feel the bed shift as he gets himself into a more comfortable position.

“Taking a pure, innocent maiden to bed with you, Miss Jade. What will the neighbours think of the big bad wolf taking the sexy red riding hood to her bed?” He jokes, in between yawns.

“Dave!” You admonish, but you’re too tired to play along any further. “Go to sleep, please. And this is closer to a slumber party than whatever it is you’re thinking.”

You’re expecting some long-winded metaphor from him, probably something about furries with blatant innuendos, but Dave must’ve been more tired than you are. He’s already fast asleep again when you turn in your bed to look at him. You smile, and drift into sleep. When you wake up, things are going to be great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the last chapter, and actually the one that's technically first. I'll admit the initial idea for this story was basically those post-game "Dave gets bad post-game dreams and his friends are there to help him" stories, many of which are really good, but I don't really recall Jade being the focus of stories like that. I don't read HS fics as much as I used to, so maybe I missed some about her. Another inspiration was that time Grimbark Jade and Dave got into a long argument with each other which, while hilarious, we never got to see what they were talking about, but that's what fanfiction is for. This chapter ended up being shippier than intended, hence the added pairing tag. Romance isn't really my thing, so it might not actually be that shippy, but I'll tag it as such just in case.
> 
> Thanks you to everyone who's been reading this story. Those kudos are always nice to see since it means that people've been enjoying my work.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been years since I've written fanfic, let alone Homestuck fic, so I decided to write something now that Homestuck's finished.
> 
> I've always wondered how Jade would interact with the Alpha Kids. She's never really conversed with any of them at length, especially with Dirk. I always felt like they'd either be the best of friends or there'd be this tension between them due to the differing ways they handle information given to their friends (Jade's up-front about any exposition without thinking of what consequences might there be, Dirk's pretty much the opposite) hence why I started this fic with him. There'll be more with the kids of course, and I'm considering a few scenes with some of the trolls too.


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